anchor in the storm
by Lossie
Summary: When it comes to Loki, nothing has ever been easy. Modern AU, Lokane


**A/N:** I have no idea why I wrote this. It's as random as they come. I hope you won't mind all the angst, because it's almighty in this one-shot. I'm thinking about writing more (maybe from Jane's or Loki's POV, or from both, or just a sequel/prequel, or all of the above?), so please, let me know if I should do it.  
Sorry for any mistakes, but I might burst into actual tears if I read it again.  
And please, don't kill me for kickig you right in the feels.  
Enjoy!

* * *

**ANCHOR IN THE STORM**

"What if I'm far from home?  
Oh brother I will hear you call.  
What if I lose it all?  
Oh sister I will help you out!  
Oh if the sky comes falling down, for you, there's nothing in this world I wouldn't do."  
_Avicii ft. Dan Tyminski, "Hey brother"_

* * *

The first thing Thor sees, when he gets out of the car, is Jane.

She stands in front of the main entrance, near the bin, with a lit cigarette held between her fingers, through it doesn't look like she has taken even a single drag – there is ash on both her trousers and the front of her left shoe. Dressed in an oversized jumper and with a woollen scarf wrapped carelessly around her neck, she looks distressed and ready to flee. He can't blame her. He hates hospitals too.

He closes the door and locks the car before approaching her. She doesn't notice him, not at first. When she does, she smiles up at him, but he thinks bitterly it would have been much better if she didn't. It's so broken, it seems to crack at the edges.

"Hi, Thor," she says quietly. Her voice is raspy and strained. She looks beyond exhausted. There are sleepless nights written over her drawn pale face and he also notices the puffiness around her eyes. She has been crying again. In that moment he is so blinded with anger – at his parents, at his friends, but mostly at himself – that he needs to take a few deep breaths to calm down. He should have been there from the very beginning. With Jane, not miles away in New York. He should have been standing by her this entire time. If only he had known, he would have been back in London as soon as possible.

For Jane.

For Loki.

Why haven't anyone told him? The question sits heavily on his heart and he can't shake off the nagging feeling that every time their family gets a chance to right the wrong, they fail, because the priorities in their life seem to lie not where they are supposed to be. In his ire, he wants to smash something so badly it physically hurts.

"How is he?" He asks instead, because he can't bring himself to act out on those impulses when Jane holds herself so firmly. It's probably only an act maintained with stubbornness and pride, but it's admirable nonetheless.

He regrets the question almost immediately, because Jane's smile shatters and then she blinks rapidly, but it's too late. A tear slides down her cheek. She doesn't bother to wipe it away.

"I don't know," she answers. "They say... Many different things. No one seems to know the answers to any of the numerous questions, like why he did it or what for. They're just guessing. It's... It's scarier than knowing, in a way. "

He nods. There is nothing as scary as not knowing what you're up against, because the unknown cannot be treated and there is no cure for it.

Then again, when it comes to Loki, nothing has ever been easy.

From a very young age, he has been prone to mood swings and Thor can't remember a time when his brother was not bipolar in his behaviour. One second he was smiling and laughing, the next he was crying and throwing things in fits of uncontrollable rage. There was no in-between. When Loki had started school it didn't get much better. He was bullied throughout both secondary and high school, he didn't have any friends and neither Thor nor Odin and Frigga have noticed anything until Loki was beaten so thoughtfully he almost died.

Black and blue. And red, so much red. He remembers the colours of Loki's face. He remembers the sickening smell of blood and how it looked on his brother's lips. That day everything changed. There was no more bulling, but it was already too late. The damage has been done and they could only watch with growing dismay as Loki withdrew more and more into himself.

The avoidant personality disorder, the doctor has called it. A name of an endless list of mental scars and bruises imprinted on Loki's mind.

Year after year Thor waited for his brother to come back to his bubbly self, but the time never came. Then one day Jane walked into their lives and Loki fell in love, and Thor was so happy, because there was finally a shadow of a smile on Loki's face. It didn't matter who put it there as long as it stayed. He envied Jane Foster the ability to make Loki laugh, but at the same time he wanted to build the woman a shrine for she deserved every star in the universe. She was Loki's saving grace and a blessing sent by some merciful deity.

He knows that Jane's life with his brother is not perfect. Loki is broken almost beyond repair and even though he got better over the years, he is still as fragile in his measured happiness as the day they had rushed him into the ER.

The bathroom marked with Loki's blood is a testimony to it.

Jane had been away for one evening, she told her husband multiple times that she would be meeting Darcy that day. Everything seemed fine until she came back. She had found Loki in the tube. The water was turning redder and redder with every second and he was barely unconscious at that point. He thought she left him, he said. Thor left and didn't call. People were leaving him all the time. Why Jane wouldn't leave him if his own family didn't want him?

Jane was crying so much when she was telling him this over the phone yesterday that he had trouble understanding her. He caught the first flight to London immediately and was restless during the entire journey. He wanted to call her so badly, to ask her to give the phone to Loki. He wanted to apologize. Abandonment issues. How could he have forgotten about it? But he was gone only for a few weeks and there was still Jane, and their parents. He thought it would be alright if he didn't call too often.

He blames himself for what had happened, he can't help it. He had triggered it with his carelessness. Stepping on eggshells was exhausting, sure, but it has always been worth it. Everything was worth even the highest of prices if it made Loki smile. There has never been a thing that Thor wasn't willing to sacrifice for his brother.

In the end, he had failed him yet again and it hurt too much to properly voice it.

"I can't believe it," he whispers finally, combing through his hair with trembling fingers. "We thought he was better, Jane. He _was_ better. I just..."

He stops midsentence and sighs.

"How is it that every time we screw this up?"

The question is murmured, but Jane hears it. She reaches out and touches his cheek. There is so much gentleness in her touch, so much understanding, that he wants to back away. He doesn't feel he deserves her compassion.

"He might have been better, but he will never be good, Thor. A part of him is missing, you and I both know it, and this is a gap that cannot be filled." She looks at him and, in her eyes, he sees the same dull pain he feels vibrating deep in his bones. Sometimes he thinks that it's an irony that Jane is the toughest of them all. She never breaks completely and maybe that's why she is still with Loki, through thick and thin. Nothing seems to shake her faith in the brighter better future ahead and Thor is jealous of her blunt optimism. It must be nice to have this little warm light to guide you in times of need.

They stay outside for a moment longer, but they remain quiet. Jane fishes out another cigarette and smokes it this time instead of letting in burn freely. When she is done, they move inside. The way to the sixth floor passes far quicker than he would have liked. They step out of the lift. It's too soon. Few more steps and they are standing in front of Loki's room. Nothing could have prepared him for the sight that meets his eyes.

Loki half sits, half lays on the bed, resting against the pillows. His arms are stretched in front of him and they are covered in bandages. Reddish marks stand out against the white material. He is pale, paler than when Thor last saw him, and so thin his collarbones are sticking out visibly. In the bright hospital light he appears even smaller and it's too painful to look at.

The air freezes around Thor and he can barely hear Jane asking him if he is okay over the pounding of his heart. He nods slowly. Nothing is okay, but Jane doesn't need to know that.

She moves into the room and starts talking. She is so animated, so alive and so fake in that happy chatter, but Loki pays her no mind. She doesn't seem to care as she bustles about the too white room. When she is done with fixing the few things standing on the windowsill, she moves to Loki's bedside. She smoothes out his hair and kisses his cheek, then his forehead. He snaps his head at that – as if he has been pulled out of a trance – and blinks at her with that horrible blank expression in place. Jane smiles.

Thor still can't move. He is only able to look at his little brother. He watches as Loki leans forward and rests his head against Jane's stomach. She embraces him, whispering something that only he can hear. Her wedding ring catches the light. Loki wraps his arms loosely around her and then his shoulders start to shake.

It takes Thor a second to turn around and walk away as fast as his legs can carry him. When he is far – far enough that he can't hear Loki's sobs – he slides down the nearest wall. He doesn't know when he starts crying, but he can feel tears streaming down his face.

He can't bring himself to care.


End file.
